


An Arranged Marriage Between The King Of The Library And The King Of The Fields

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, M/M, Severea and Galencia Control Hieron TImeline (AU)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-11 00:12:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16464986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: Sometimes you can find love while being part of a trade agreement. Sometimes the other person is just annoying. Sometimes, it's both.





	An Arranged Marriage Between The King Of The Library And The King Of The Fields

**Author's Note:**

> lem king is a bastard but my heart is still with lemfero.
> 
>  
> 
> thanks to maddie for betaing, plot help, and for laughing at my dumb jokes.

Lem took his hair down. Then he put it back up. Then he started braiding it, before changing his mind half-way through and putting his hair back up again. He frowned, his hands hovering for a moment over his hair before he sighed, dropping them back down to his lap.

 

There was a knock at his door. 

 

“I still have five more minutes!” said Lem, trying to keep his voice at a normal pitch.

 

“It’s me,” said Devar, ”can I come in?”

 

“ _ Please _ ,” said Lem.

 

Devar’s eyes widened at Lem as he opened the door, and he hurriedly shut it behind him. He opened his mouth, probably to ask why Lem was still wearing his dressing gown or why it looked as though the entire contents of his wardrobe were thrown all over his room.

 

“Oh, Devar, good, you can help me,” said Lem quickly, before Devar could say anything.

 

Devar looked around the room, his eyes lingering for a moment to one of Lem’s shirts that Lem had flung on top of one of the bookcases in frustration.

 

“With what?”

 

“I can’t decide how to do my hair,” said Lem, “it doesn’t look right.”

 

“Lem, you’re supposed to be downstairs in  _ five minutes _ ,” said Devar.

 

“I  _ know _ , that’s why I need your help,” said Lem, “should it be up or down, or maybe I should do some kind of traditional halfling style, or is that overstepping-”

 

“It’s fine up,” said Devar, “please tell me that you have at least  _ some _ idea of what you’re going to wear.”

 

“Well… no, not exactly.” Lem turned back to the mirror, lightly touching the high ponytail. “Are you  _ sure _ it looks alright like this?”

 

“ _ Yes _ ,” said Devar, “Lem-”

 

Lem sighed, throwing up his hands. “I don’t know, I don’t have anything to wear that looks right either. Maybe I should have asked to wear some kind of armour.”

 

Devar snorted, leaning to pick a few shirts off the ground. “When have you  _ ever _ worn armour?”

 

Lem waved a hand. “That’s not the point, it’s ceremonial. It looks nice.”

 

“It would look like you’re going into battle, which is kind of the opposite message you’re supposed to be sending with this” said Devar. “Here, put these on.”

 

Lem held it up, making a face at the fabric. “This shirt? Oh Devar, I don’t know, it’s a little plain.”

 

“Just put it on,” said Devar, crossing his arms and pointedly not turning around, meaning that Lem  _ had _ to get up and put on the possibly-too-plain shirt.

 

At least the green velvet pants and jacket Devar threw at him next made up for it. Lem looked himself over in the mirror, humming thoughtfully.

 

Devar grabbed his sleeve. “Great, let’s go.”

 

“Oh,” said Lem, half-turning to the mirror to look himself over again, “but--”

 

“Nope,” said Devar, barely giving Lem enough time to grab his green embroidered boots before he pulled Lem out of the room.

 

“ _ Devar _ , really!” said Lem. He pulled his arm out of Devar’s loose grip, bending to pull his boots on. “There’s no need to be like that, I would have been ready in time.”

 

“Sure.”

 

“I would have!” said Lem, straightening his jacket as he rose. “I just want to make a good first impression, that’s all.”

 

“I kind of thought that the point of arranged marriages was that you didn’t have to worry so much about that part of things,” said Devar, heading quickly for the stairs.

 

Lem hurried to keep up. He wished Devar would walk a bit slower to give him a  _ little _ more time. He’d known it was coming for weeks, months even, but it always seemed so abstract when the Archive Council described it to him, an important but distant event made stomach-flippingly real by the arrival of the halflings.

 

“I know, I know, but I… I suppose I’d still like to make a good impression,” said Lem, fiddling with his bracelets, “I don’t really know much about him, the Council have kept the details about him so quiet. It’s all very mysterious.”

 

“I think it’s less of a mystery and more that there’s just not that much to say about the guy,” said Devar. “I heard he was some sort of hermit before he got pulled into this.”

 

Lem hummed in agreement. He’d heard that rumor too, that the halfling he was to be betrothed to had lived alone in the forest, rugged and untamed and wild. Lem could just picture him now, standing on a cliff’s edge, the wind whipping at his hair, looking out into the wildness in which he had survived alone for so long--

 

“Lem?”

 

“Mmm, what?” said Lem.

 

“We’re here,” said Devar. He frowned, putting a hand on Lem’s arm. “Are you… you are okay with this, right?”

 

Lem shrugged. “I suppose I have to be.”

 

The Council of the Archives were already seated, with a few guards stationed by the doors in their ceremonial (and least threatening) robes. A selection of delicate-looking food had been laid out on the table. The only thing that was missing were the halflings.

 

“Um.” Lem cleared his throat. “Hello.”

 

One of the Councillors, Uklan, nodded to him, gesturing to the last empty seat on the orc’s side of the table.

 

“Devar, please go and tell their representative that we are ready,” said Uklan.

 

“Finally,” muttered one of the other Councillors.

 

Devar nodded, leaving Lem alone with the Council. He fiddled with his bracelet, turning around his wrist, trying to distract himself. He wasn’t really sure why he had been chosen for this; he didn’t come from one of the wealthy families of the Archives and despite working hard for the Director of Audio Patterns, he’d never done anything particularly noteworthy. Or perhaps that was why he’d been chosen - someone they could foist off on a deal with Rosemerrow without taking any great loss.

 

After what felt like an absolute eternity but was probably more like ten minutes the doors opened, revealing a group of halflings in fine green cloaks, the silver embroidery glittering along the edges in the lamplight. The Councillors stood, and Lem scrambled to copy them, his eyes flicking over each of the halflings, trying to work out which one was the one he was supposed to be marrying.

 

All the halflings were dressed in similar robes, a few with flowers in their hair, a few without. Some had gleaming weapons at their side, marking them as part of their guard, which at least ruled them out. Two carried books and one carried a potted plant as gifts which might mean it was one of them, but judging by how scruffy the one holding the plant looked, probably meant they were assistants of some kind. Maybe whoever Lem was supposed to marry wasn’t here at all, maybe he was still living wild in the mountains and Lem would have to go to him, bringing home comforts the halfling had long-since forgotten had existed…

 

“Honored Council,” said one of the halflings, cutting through Lem’s thoughts, “I am Councillor Lutz. We are glad to meet with you on this: a joining of two houses and two peoples to the mutual satisfaction of all. As you have done us the honour of hosting us in your ancestral home, we have brought you gifts from ours.”

 

The two halflings with books came forward and two councillors accepted them, both the orcs and halflings bowing to each other.

 

“Books detailing our history, so that you may know our past better,” said Lutz, “and a plant from our lands, so that you may know our living present.”

 

The scruffy halfling stepped forward, holding the plant out to Lem. Lem glanced to the councillor on his left before reaching out to take it, bowing. The halfling stiffly bowed to him before stepping back. Instead of looking at the floor, as he had been before, he kept looking at Lem, his eyes curious. Lem shifted his feet a little under his gaze.

 

“The futures we will find out together,” finished Lutz, bowing.

 

“We thank you for the gifts,” said Uklan, “and welcome you into our homes and our hearts. May we present to you Lem, King of the Archives, who will reach out and connect our two peoples.”

 

Lem stepped forward, awkwardly holding the plant. “Um. Hello. It’s, an honour?”

 

Lutz bowed again. Lem felt his cheeks flush a little.

 

“May we present to you Fero Feritas, Son of the Fields, Life of the Granite, Skin of the Mountain, Of Foot, Of Paw, Of Hoof, Of Claw, Of Tooth and Maw.”

 

The scruffy halfling stepped forward. Lem blinked, waiting for him to introduce Fero before it sunk in.

 

Fero was dressing the same as the other halflings, the robes hanging oddly on his lean frame, shoulders twitching where the others of the group were still, his hair ruffled by the wind where theirs was smooth. Not exactly how he’d been picturing a rugged mountain dwelling hermit.

 

Fero looked up at him, his eyes bright and curious. It felt like he was waiting for Lem to say something.

 

“Um,” said Lem, “Pleased to meet you?”

 

“Right, well!” said Uklan quickly, “Perhaps we should sit down and get everything formally signed, before we move on to the celebrations?”

 

“Wonderful,” said Lutz.

 

Lem set the plant down next to him on the ground as he sat, absentmindedly patting its leaves before he straightened.

 

Fero’s face was twisted into an odd expression, and it took Lem a moment to realise that he was trying not to laugh. Lem scowled at him before he caught himself. He glanced at the rest of the table, who didn’t seem to have noticed.

 

“What?” whispered Lem.

 

“Just-” Fero pressed his lips together, his body trembling with suppressed laughter. “ _ Pleased to meet you _ ?”

 

“I can’t be pleased?”

 

“Hey man, you can be whatever you want,” said Fero.

 

The halfling next to Fero turned towards him and Fero fell silent. When they’d turned back to the rest of the table, Fero stuck his tongue out at them. Lem snorted, quickly faking a cough in an attempt to cover the sound. Fero grinned at him, sharp and cheerful.

 

Maybe it wasn’t the brooding, soulful look he’d been picturing, but it was, perhaps, charming in its own way. Lem tentatively smiled back.

 

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  
  


\--

  
  


Lem slammed the door of his room shut, struggling out of his jacket and throwing it across the room before flopping onto the bed and glaring up at the ceiling.

 

“So how’d it go?”

 

Lem jumped, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of Devar, sitting at his dressing table.

 

“Terrible, just  _ terrible _ ,” said Lem, “I’m not going to do it, I  _ refuse _ , I- Devar, he’s never read a book! Not a  _ single _ book! I said  _ what do you like to read Fero _ and  _ he  _ said  _ reading is pointless when you could be doing the stuff instead _ . Pointless! I mean, really! Oh and he was so  _ smug _ about it, telling me about climbing mountains and living in trees, as if  _ that’s  _ some kind of accomplishment!” Lem fell back on the bed. “Devar, you have to get me out of this.”

 

Devar sighed, coming to sit on the edge of Lem’s bed. “If they signed the papers, it’s probably already too late. Patterns in motions-”

 

“Will stay in motion, I know,” said Lem. He groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “But Devar, I  _ can’t _ , I mean, how do they expect  _ me _ to… to…”

 

“I don’t think they expect you to  _ do _ anything,” said Devar, “it’s more of a way to find enough common ground to get a contract of some kind off the, well, ground.”

 

“I do  _ not _ have common ground with  _ him _ ,” said Lem.

 

“Well maybe you should try to  _ find _ some,” said Devar. “You’re going to be married for at  _ least _ as long as the deal lasts, so-”

 

Lem sat up. “So you’re saying all I have to do is break up the deal, and then I’m free!”

 

“Whoa, hey, that’s not what I’m saying,” said Devar.

 

“Devar, you’re a genius! Now, how do I go about making them break this deal...”

 

“Lem, do you even know what the deal is  _ for _ ?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Lem, waving a hand, “grain delivery, or water supply, or something, I’m sure they can find another way to do whatever it is.”

 

“It’s for sharing the water supply and rights to the river at- wait, where are you going?”

 

“I’m going to get out of this marriage!” said Lem, “Don’t tell anyone! Bye!”

 

“Lem, wait-” 

 

Lem quickly shut the door, sprinting down the corridor before ducking into a small side room, closing the door carefully behind him. He waited until he heard Devar running past. Devar was a dear friend but really, he didn’t understand.

 

Lem crept back along the corridor, heading for the Council office. Surely there’d be something in  _ there _ that could help get him out of this. Some pattern or old contract that he could pull up as a loophole of some kind. Even if there was a way to divert the pattern onto someone else, that could work. 

 

He searched carefully, leafing through the books scattered on the Councillor’s desk, squinting at them in the low light. Lem sighed. It was getting quite dark now, the sun setting low and making the words on the page blur together.

 

Someone held up a lantern, illuminating the page he was reading.

 

“Thank you,” said Lem, absentmindedly.

 

“You’re welcome,” said Fero.

 

Lem dropped the pages he was holding, scattering them everywhere. “ _ You _ !”

 

“Me!” said Fero.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“What are  _ you _ doing here?” said Fero.

 

“I asked first,” said Lem.

 

“I asked second.”

 

“That’s not- that doesn’t mean anything!”

 

Fero threw up his hands. “Fine! I was looking to see if there was some kind of loophole to get me out of this.”

 

“What.”

 

Fero shrugged. “Look I’m sure you’re- whatever, I’m sure  _ some _ people like you-”

 

“ _ You _ -”

 

“But I don’t think this is really going to work out for me,” said Fero, “I miss the mountains.”

 

“We’re in a mountain,” said Lem.

 

“I miss  _ my _ mountain,” said Fero, “anyway, what are  _ you _ doing here?”

 

Lem dropped to the floor, reaching for the scattered pages. “Nothing. Reading.”

 

“Reading what?” Fero dropped down looking at one of the pages. He frowned. “Reading the-  _ hey _ wait a minute, this is our marriage contract stuff! You’re doing the same thing as me!”

 

“I am  _ not _ ,” said Lem, “I would never damage a pattern like that, especially not when it relates to something as important as-” he looked at the page in his hand, “-fisheries subsection B point twelve.”

 

“Prove it,” said Fero.

 

“ _ Prove it _ ?” said Lem, “That’s a little immature, isn’t it?”

 

“Oh, so you can’t prove it?”

 

“Well, that’s, of course I can,” said Lem, “I’ll, I’ll- tomorrow, I’ll take you down to this quarry myself and tell you all about it.”

 

“That sounds boring,” said Fero.

 

“Well you  _ asked _ me to prove it,” said Lem.

 

“Yeah but I don’t want to sit through a history lecture, that’s boring,” said Fero. He hummed to himself. “I guess I could bring some food or something, you’ve got pretty nice food here.”

 

“I- okay, well-” There was the noise of footsteps outside. Lem blanched. “The lantern! Shut off the lantern!”

 

Fero dove for the lantern, plunging the room into darkness. “I thought  _ you _ were just reading?”

 

“Shut up!” hissed Lem.

 

The footsteps got closer. Lem crouched behind the desk and Fero scrambled to sit beside him.

 

“Find your own hiding space!” whispered Lem.

 

“ _ Where _ ?”

 

“I don’t know! You’re small! There’s plenty of spots, probably-”

 

Fero put his hand over Lem’s mouth. The footsteps had stopped outside the door. Lem pressed his lips together, trying to breathe quietly. The door creaked open. For the space of a few heartbeats, there was nothing. In the dim light, Lem could see a shadow standing in the doorway. Then the door closed, and the footsteps continued on.

 

Lem let out a long breath. Fero lowered his hand, but stayed close against Lem’s side. Lem could feel the tension in his body.

 

“Let’s get out of here,” said Fero.

 

Lem peered around the door. “All clear.”

 

“Yeah,” said Fero, peering around the doorway in the other direction.

 

“Right. Well.”

 

“That was close!” said Fero, turning to leave, “Anyway, see you tomorrow.”

 

“Yes, see you tomorrow,” said Lem, “Wait, what? Fero, what?”

 

“See you tomorrow for the quarry thing,” said Fero over his shoulder.

 

“I wasn’t  _ serious _ ,” said Lem, but Fero had already gone around the corner.

 

Lem huffed a breath, walking back to his room (and maybe stomping up the stairs, just a little, to release his frustration).

 

“ _ There _ you are,” said Devar, “You didn’t do anything, did you?”

 

“No,” said Lem, “or, well-”

 

Devar groaned.

 

“I think I have to give Fero a tour of the fishing quarry.”

 

Devar blinked. “What?”

 

“It’s… I don’t know, he was there and he- anyway. Do you know anything about the fishing quarry?”

 

Devar laughed. “You’re on your own, man.”

 

“He’ll probably have forgotten about it by tomorrow anyway,” said Lem.

 

Fero did not forget about it. Fero found Lem, who was certainly  _ not  _ hiding in the section of library that held books about river management, hoping up onto the couch beside Lem and startling Lem into almost dropping his book.

 

“So, you ready to go?”

 

“Go where?”

 

“The fishing quarry,” said Fero. “Wow you’ve got a pretty bad memory, huh?”

 

“I do not,” spluttered Lem. “We’re not going to the fishing quarry.”

 

Fero frowned. “But I already got the food.”

 

He gestured to a small basket beside him. Lem thought for a moment.

 

“What food?”

 

“I dunno,” said Fero. “I saw they were setting up lunch so I just grabbed stuff from a couple of plates.” 

 

“You stole it?”

 

“It’s not like they can’t spare it.” Fero hopped up, grabbing the basket. “Look, are we going to the quarry or what?”

 

Lem sighed. “Well considering that you don’t seem willing to leave me alone unless I do, I suppose I have to.”

 

“Great!” said Fero, grabbing Lem’s sleeve with his free hand, “Let’s go before they realise I took their lunch.”

 

“Wait,”  said Lem, as Fero pulled him out of the library, “Whose lunch did you take?”

 

“I took the stuff from the fancy plates, so they’re probably  _ some _ one important,” said Fero, peering around a corridor. “So… which way is it?”

 

Lem blinked. “Oh, um… this way, I think.”

 

“Don’t you  _ live _ here?”

 

Lem huffed a breath. “Yes, well. I don’t go down to the quarry that often. I don’t do a lot of fishing.”

 

“Right,” said Fero, “but you do know where we’re going, right?”

 

“Of course I do,” said Lem, confidently.

 

After fifteen minutes, Fero stopped him.

 

“Okay, we’ve walked past that statue three times now so I’m pretty sure you don’t actually know where we’re going.”

 

“We have not.”

 

“We have so!”

 

Lem considered the statue for a moment. It did look familiar. “Maybe we have multiple copies of that statue of Severea here. Maybe it’s part of a pattern.”

 

Fero looked up at him. “Nah, I think you’re just lost.”

 

“I am  _ not _ , I know  _ exactly _ where we’re going.”

 

“Yeah,” said Fero, “we take a left, then a right, then three lefts, and then we pass this statue again. For the fifth time.”

 

“If  _ you’re _ such an expert in how to get to the quarry, why don’t  _ you _ lead the way,” said Lem.

 

Fero tilted his head to the side. “I don’t really want to go to the quarry.”

 

“Then why are we even  _ doing _ this!”

 

“I dunno, to get outside?” said Fero. “There’s a good garden I saw yesterday on our way in, come on, we can go there instead.”

 

“What garden- Fero!” Lem hurried to catch up to him. “What garden?”

 

“I don’t know, a garden, by the thing,” said Fero, waving a hand. “We’re pretty close to it, I think.”

 

“Oh,  _ you think _ ?”

 

“Closer than  _ you _ were to the quarry,” Fero shot back.

 

“We’re right around the corner from it! You just don’t have any patience.”

 

“The only thing we’re around the corner from was that one Severea statue,” said Fero, “come on, it’s this way.”

 

The other halflings Lem had met moved slowly, their movements langid and precise. Fero was neither of those things, his movements sharp and twitchy, rushing along the corridor and forcing Lem to keep up with his quick pace. They passed by places Lem was more familiar with: music rooms and stages, sitting rooms, collection rooms, before heading through rooms he’d never seen before - a room full of polished stones, an astonishingly loud kitchen, a beautiful mosaic corridor.

 

It lead out into a small courtyard garden, tall trees casting shade over clusters of ferns, daffodils, and lilacs. There was a tall statue of Severea and Galenica in the middle, their hands intertwined and bodies leaning towards one another.

 

Fero spread his arms wide, grinning. “Told you I could get us here.”

 

“I suppose you did,” said Lem, looking around. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been here.”

 

Fero looked up at him, frowning. “But this is your home.”

 

“Only part of it is,” said Lem, “I don’t really see much outside my work.”

 

“Oh,” said Fero. He looked down, fidgeting with the basket in his hands.

 

“I suppose you did a lot of exploring, being a hermit,” said Lem, after a moment.

 

Fero shrugged. “I guess.”

 

Fero busied himself with unpacking the basket. He took what looked like a bedsheet, spreading it on the soft grass before he started to get out a jumble of food - a few fresh rolls, part of a meat pie, two apples, a hunk of cheese, and a tomato.

 

“There!” said Fero.

 

“This is our lunch?”

 

“Do you want it or not?”

 

Lem sighed, sitting down on the bedsheet. “I suppose since I came all this way I may as well.”

 

Fero took one of the apples for himself, pulling out a small knife from his boot and starting to peel it in one long strip. “You can have the rest.”

 

Lem lowered the part of the pie he was eating. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah,” said Fero, “I don’t need to eat, so it’s probably kind of a waste.”

 

“You don’t need to eat?”

 

Fero shrugged. “Yeah. It’s something to do with the animal transformation, I think.”

 

“It’s what.”

 

“I think so anyway, because I noticed it around the same time, like, I just woke up and I wasn’t hungry and I was like wow, weird that I’m not hungry, it’s been ages since I ate something, and then I realised it had been  _ weeks _ , and I felt fine, so I guess I don’t need to do it anymore.” He took a loud bite of the apples. “I still like to do it, though. Food tastes good.”

 

“No I mean…” Lem struggled to find the words for a moment, “what animal transformation thing?”

 

Fero brightened. “Oh! This!”

 

Lem blinked, and instead of Fero in front of him there was a cougar, sitting in the same place Fero had been sitting. Lem dropped the pie.

 

“Oh gods,” said Lem.

 

He blinked again, and Fero was back, grinning widely at him.

 

“Ta da!”

 

“How did you  _ do _ that!”

 

Fero shrugged, taking another bite of apple. “I just think about it, and then I am it.”

 

“Fascinating,” breathed Lem.

 

Fero’s cheeks flushed pink. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”

 

“Is that part of being a hermit too?”

 

“Maybe,” said Fero. “I just sort of ran away to live by myself, so I don’t know if there are hermit rules or anything.”

 

“You ran away?”

 

Fero nodded, rolling the long strip of apple skin into a ball. “Yeah.”

 

“Why?”

 

Fero looked up at him sharply. “ _ Why _ ?”

 

“Well, I’ve never been to Rosemerrow but it seems like a lovely place.”

 

“It sucks,” said Fero, “it’s a bit like this place that way.”

 

Lem stiffened. “The Archives do  _ not _ suck.”

 

Fero snorted. “How would you know? You’ve barely seen any of it, apparently.”

 

“I like the parts of it that I know,” said Lem.

 

Fero rolled his eyes. “Sure, okay.”

 

“I do!” said Lem, “Do you  _ have _ to be so contrary about  _ everything _ ?”

 

“I don’t know, do you have to be so wrong about everything?”

 

Lem gave a groan of frustration. “I don’t know  _ why _ I agreed to come out here with you!”

 

“Neither do I,” said Fero.

 

Lem let out a sharp breath. “Right. Well.” He took another bite of pie.

 

Fero finished his apple, chewing deliberately loud.

 

Lem wrinkled his nose. “Didn’t your parents teach you any manners?”

 

Fero shrugged. “They tried to but then I ran away.”

 

Lem huffed a breath.

 

Fero laid down on the bedsheet, looking up at the sky. Lem made a move to get up and Fero’s hand shot out, catching in Lem’s sleeve.

 

“Hey, wait.”

 

“What, why?”

 

“Um. Look at that cloud,” said Fero, pointing up, “It looks just like a big dog.”

 

Lem looked up at the clouds drifting by. “Where?”

 

“There- look, lie down, it’s way easier to see it that way.”

 

Lem sighed, squinting up at the clouds. “I think it looks more like a cart.”

 

Fero tilted his head to the side. “Oh yeah, I guess I can kind of see that.”

 

“That one looks a little like a bird,” offered Lem.

 

Fero spread his arms, waving them in an imitation of wings. “Yeah, and an angry one too!”

 

It felt easy to lie with Fero, looking up at the slowly-changing sky, Fero’s arm brushing against his as he pointed up at something. The sun was low in the sky before Lem noticed, caught up in arguing with Fero about what did and didn’t look like a shape in the clouds. He helped Fero hurriedly stuff the bedsheet back into the basket, following Fero back through the twists of unfamiliar corridors until they were outside Lem’s room.

 

“Right,” said Lem. He opened his mouth, and then shut it again.

 

“Yeah, I uh-” Fero made a face. “-I guess I’ll see you at the dinner tonight.”

 

“Wh- oh! Yes. I suppose you will.”

 

“Yeah.” Fero shifted his feet, switching the basket between hands.

 

“Thanks for, um, showing me the garden today,” said Lem. His cheeks felt hot. He must have been sitting in the sun too long.

 

Fero looked a little flushed himself. “Yeah, uh, no problem.” He switched the basket between hands again. “So, uh. See you later?”

 

“Yes, see you tonight.”

 

Fero opened his mouth, then closed it, nodding to Lem before turning and quickly walking away.

 

Lem ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the odd feeling in his chest. “Right. Dinner.”

 

He should probably figure out what he was going to wear. He only had a few hours to decide, after all.

 

He was choosing between two jackets when Devar came to fetch him this time. Devar didn’t even stop to ask, grabbing the deep blue jacket and throwing it around Lem’s shoulders before hustling him out of the room.

 

“I was trying to find you all day,” whispered Devar as they headed towards the dinner chamber, “where  _ were _ you? I started to think that you’d made a run for it.”

 

“I was in a garden,” said Lem.

 

Devar made a face. “What garden?”

 

“I don’t know,” said Lem. “Fero took me to it.”

 

“Fero took you-  _ Oh _ ,” said Devar. “Oh, okay.”

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing,” said Devar, grinning far too much for it to actually be  _ nothing _ . “I guess you found stuff in common after all then, huh?”

 

“What’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?”

 

Devar held up his hands. “I’m just glad you’re getting along with your fiance.”

 

“ _ Please _ don’t call him that,” said Lem, “anyway, we argued basically the whole time.”

 

“About what?”

 

Lem tried to remember past the dreamy haze of afternoon sun. “Clouds.”

 

“ _ Clouds _ ?”

 

“Yes,” said Lem. He shot a glare at Devar. “I don’t what that look means but I don’t like it.”

 

Devar laughed. “Just happy you’re enjoying yourself.”

 

“I’m not,” said Lem, “He’s awful. He’s really, very, awful.”

 

“You’ve been smiling the entire time you’ve been talking about him,” said Devar.

 

Lem slapped a hand over his mouth. “No I haven’t.”

 

Devar grinned. “Alright, if you say so.” He clapped a hand on Lem’s shoulder. “Have a good dinner.”

 

They separated as they entered the room, Devar going to sit at the other end of the table and leaving Lem to sit opposite Fero once again. Fero gave him a small wave as he sat down and Lem returned it, immediately feeling foolish as he caught one of the other halflings watching him. Fero grinned, as if this had been his goal the whole time. Lem glared at him, which only seemed to please Fero more.

 

Uklan cleared his throat, standing. “Friends, honoured guests, I am so pleased to have you here tonight, to celebrate…”

 

Lem’s attention wandered, distracted by Fero fidgeting in his chair.

 

“Will you sit still?” his whispered.

 

“I hate speeches,” said Fero.

 

Lem wasn’t going to argue with him on that one. He knew from experience that Council speeches could go on for quite some time. Fero seemed to still, at least a little, when Lem was talking to him.

 

“Stop fidgeting,” said Lem, “you’re going to fall off your chair.”

 

“Am not,” said Fero, “I have  _ perfect _ balance.”

 

“Oh of  _ course _ you do,” said Lem.

 

“I do,” Fero hissed back, “I could turn into a sparrow right now and balance on the lip of this wine glass, that’s how good I am.”

 

“Don’t be  _ ridiculous _ .”

 

“It’s not ridiculous if it’s true.”

 

“A thing can be both,” said Lem, “ _ you _ certainly are.”

 

The Councillor next to Lem turned in their seat, glaring at both of them. Lem sunk down in his chair. Fero at least had the decency to look down, although as soon as the Councillor’s gaze was off them his was twitching again, fiddling with the silverware. Lem rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the speech.

 

“... which led us here today, the meeting of two great lineages, two great cultures, finding common ground, which…”

 

Fero had begun to stack his silverware on top of his glass, carefully balancing each item on top of each other. He ran out of cutlery, eyeing the set of the halfling next to him. Lem pushed his own silverware over to Fero’s side of the table. Fero blinked at it, then grinned, delight making him glow, making Lem grin back. 

 

As Fero leaned forward to add the last, delicate silver teaspoon to the tower, the halfling next to him turned, their eyes widening and then narrowing at Fero's stack on top of the glass. They tugged at Fero's top, pulling him back down in his seat and unbalancing the cutlery. Lem moved forward, catching most of it, the rest of the clattering covered by the applause from the rest of the table as Uklan finished his speech. 

 

Fero let out a sharp bark of laughter, silenced only by the glare of the halfling beside him. 

 

He grinned over at Lem, glancing down at the jumble of silverware. Lem sighed, and began trying to divide the cutlery. Fero grabbed a teaspoon and three forks, despite the fact that at  _ least  _ one of those would be Lem's (especially given that the teaspoon and two of the forks were orc-sized). 

 

“Hey!” said Lem.

 

Fero turned the overly-large fork over in his hands, grinning. “What?”

 

“You  _ know  _ what,” said Lem. 

 

“If we're going to be married, shouldn't we get used to sharing?” said Fero.

 

“Don't be ridiculous,” said Lem, “give me the fork.”

 

Fero thought for a moment. “Nah, I think I like it. You can use mine. Think of it as a cross-cultural exchange. You guys like that stuff, right?”

 

Lem made a face. Fero made a face back at him.

 

“Stop that,” said Lem.

 

“I was just doing what you're doing,” said Fero.

 

“You are  _ impossible _ ,” said Lem. 

 

“I thought I was ridiculous,” said Fero. 

 

The first course arrived, saving Lem from a response, but also, unfortunately, distracting him enough that Fero managed to grab most of the cutlery from the pile. Fero cackled at Lem’s expression and Lem ducked his head, frustration fighting with the urge to laugh along with Fero.

 

Most of the meal passed much as their lunch had - Fero making a outlandish statement after outlandish statement until Lem laughed, and then Fero would beam and walk back whatever he'd said, as though his only reason for speaking was to make Lem laugh. Fero picked at his meal, shuffling bits of his meal onto the plate of the halfling next to him when they were distracted (or to Lem, if if was a dish Lem particularly liked).

 

The only real difference came from one of the other halflings, who turned to catch Lem’s eye as their next course was served.

 

“So, Lem. Have you given much thought on where the two of you will live?”

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Fero’s shoulders tense.

 

Lem choked, clearing his throat before he answered. “Ah. No. I suppose I haven’t.”

 

“Well you’d be welcome to live in Rosemerrow of course,” said the halfling, “our town is open to all.”

 

Fero had a white knuckled grip on his fork, biting his lip as he glared down at the table.

 

“I thought you lived in the mountains,” said Lem, looking to Fero.

 

“I do,” said Fero, not looking up.

 

“Yes, so, why would we live in Rosemerrow?” said Lem. 

 

Fero looked up sharply, his eyes wide.

 

“No offense,” Lem added quickly to the halfling. “I’ve heard it’s lovely.”

 

“It  _ is _ lovely,” said the halfling, shooting a glare at Fero. “I’m sure you’d be very happy there.”

 

“Oh, yes, probably,” said Lem, “but that would probably be quite a way from Fero’s home, and I think we’re supposed to live together.”

 

“What Lem means,” cut in the orc Councillor to Lem’s left, “is that there’s still a discussion to be had to find a solution that pleases all parties. Isn’t that right Lem?”

 

Lem blinked. “Um. Yes?”

 

The Councillor and the halfling nodded, the halfling shooting Lem a strange look as she turned back to her conversation.

 

Fero was still staring up him.

 

“What?” said Lem.

 

Fero opened and closed his mouth a few times before he spoke. “How’d you know that?”

 

“How did I know what?”

 

“That Rosemerrow…” Fero lowered his voice. “That Rosemerrow’s not my home.”

 

“You… told me?” said Lem, keeping his voice low to match Fero’s. “You said you lived in a mountain. Rosemerrow’s not a mountain, so therefore it couldn’t be your home. Simple, really.”

 

An odd expression fluttered over Fero’s face before he looked down at his plate. “Right. Simple.”

 

Lem frowned. “Fero…  _ do _ you want to live in Rosemerrow?”

 

Fero gave a small shake of his head.

 

“Neither do I,” said Lem, “so that’s settled.”

 

Fero looked back up at him, the same wide-eyed expression on his face as before. “Just like that?”

 

Lem nodded.

 

Fero swallowed. “Thanks.”

 

When the dessert course came, Fero put half his serving of cake onto Lem’s plate without him even having to ask.

 

The Council and the halflings lingered over their post-dessert coffee, stretching the dinner later and later. Lem struggled to stay awake, propping his chin in his hand and fighting to keep his eyes open over the now-lukewarm tea. Fero had entirely given up the fight, his head pillowed in his arms, the flickering light of the lanterns turning his eyelashes gold against the constellation of freckles on his cheeks. 

 

It was strange to see him still, giving Lem the chance to take in his profile in a way that he couldn't when Fero was in motion - the slope of his nose, the way his hair curled around his ears, the particular shade of pink of his lips… 

 

He started as Devar laid a hand on his shoulder, blinking up at him. Devar had a strange expression on his face that Lem’s tired mind couldn't process. 

 

“Dinner's over,” said Devar. “C'mon. Tomorrow's the big day.”

 

Lem scrubbed a hand over his face. “Right.” He reached over, shaking Fero awake. “Hey.”

 

Fero slowly blinked up at him. “Hmm?”

 

“We're leaving,” said Lem. 

 

“ _ Finally, _ ” said Fero. 

 

Lem huffed a laugh, offered Fero a hand up. His hand was warm, the calluses on his hands rough on Lem’s palm. Fero looked down at their joined hands and then up at Lem’s face, his cheeks flushed pink.

 

“Uh, thanks,” said Fero.

 

Lem felt his cheeks heat, dropping Fero’s hand quickly. Devar coughed, sounding suspiciously like he was covering a laugh.

 

“So,” said Devar, “which way are you, Fero? We’ll drop you off.”

 

“That way,” said Fero, gesturing broadly to the right. “It’s by these big ferns in big gold vases..

 

“I know the one,” said Devar.

 

“You  _ do _ ?” said Lem.

 

“Sure,” said Devar. “It’s this way.”

 

Devar led them through winding corridors, ending up not all that far away from where Lem’s own rooms were. The corridor was lined with tall, shining gold vases, with intricately tooled scenes of orc history, trails of fern leaves spilling from the top.

 

“Thanks,” said Fero around a yawn.

 

Devar nudged Lem in side, giving him a  _ look _ . “No trouble, right Lem?”

 

“I suppose not,” said Lem.

 

Fero blinked up at him, still seeming half-asleep, his motions slow. “See you tomorrow.”

 

“Right,” said Lem, “Right, tomorrow.”

 

Devar was still giving Lem an absolutely unreadable look, as though he were waiting for Lem to do something. Lem did the first thing that came into his head - he stuck his hand out to shake Fero’s. Fero looked at his hand for a moment, then took it, laughing.

 

“Orcs have some weird customs,” said Fero. He grinned up at Lem, pulling away to open his door. “Night Lem, night Devar.”

 

“Goodnight,” said Devar.

 

Lem opened his mouth, then closed it again. Devar huffed a laugh, scrubbing his hand over his face before he pushed at Lem’s shoulder, turning them to face back towards Lem’s rooms.

 

“Devar,” said Lem, feeling a little as if he was in a daze. “I’m getting married tomorrow.”

 

Devar pushed at Lem’s shoulders again to keep him moving. “Yep.”

 

“Do you think they expect me to… you know. Perform any duties?”

 

“Probably not,” said Devar, “if they want you guys to have kids they’ll probably organise for you guys to adopt or something.”

 

“Oh,” said Lem, feeling strangely disappointed.

 

“Lem,” said Devar. He paused, pressing his lips together.

 

“Hmm?” said Lem, concentrating on not tripping on the stairs.

 

“Did you… was that something you wanted?”

 

“No! Or, well,” said Lem, “I don’t know. Fero’s-- it wouldn’t have been  _ so _ bad. If I had to.”

 

“Huh.”

 

“Not that I want to, obviously,” said Lem, “he’s still absolutely awful, you should have  _ seen _ what he put me through at dinner.”

 

“I saw you give him all your cutlery,” said Devar.

 

“Well, that’s, you know,” said Lem, stumbling over the words. “Oh, look, here’s my door, goodnight Devar!”

 

“Lem,” said Devar.

 

“Big day tomorrow, we all need lots of rest, goodnight!” said Lem, hurriedly shutting the door.

 

“Goodnight Lem,” said Devar, his amused tone muffled by the thick wood.

 

Lem scrubbed a hand over his face, getting changed into his nightclothes and collapsing onto the bed. Sleep came quickly.

 

And with it, dreams.

 

He was back at the picnic, but the sheet underneath him was his own bed sheets, the arches surrounding the courtyard billowing like the curtains of his bed. Fero was on his side next to him, grinning over at him, the light haloing around the curls of his hair, turning his brown skin almost gold.

 

“Told you it was great out here,” said Fero.

 

Lem hummed, reaching over to brush hair from Fero’s face. Fero caught his hand, pulling himself on top of Lem’s body. It felt like a patch of sunlight on his skin, warm and weightless. He ran his hands along Fero’s small body and Fero laughed, leaning down towards him; kissing him lightly on the left cheek, then the right, then hovering, so close, over his lips, until Lem ached to lean up towards him, he could feel Fero’s breath on his lips, he reached up to pull Fero towards him and--

 

Promptly fell out of bed.

 

Lem blinked up at the ceiling. Well. That had certainly been. A dream. Of a sort. Involving Fero.

 

Fero, who he was getting married to.

 

Today.

 

Only because they had to, of course. Dreams didn’t  _ mean  _ anything. You couldn’t even use dreams in a pattern, because they were so insubstantial.

 

Still, it was strange to have a dream like that… about a garden he’d barely seen. Fero seemed so happy to be there, in the sun. He’d seem like that outside the dream too, grinning over at Lem, making warmth build in Lem’s chest until he was smiling too.

 

Lem let out a long breath.

 

They hadn’t talked about the  _ after _ of their situation. Lem had a feeling that Fero had, like him, been trying not to think about it. Lem tapped his fingers on his chest. Perhaps he should. There wasn’t really much time left before it  _ became  _ after.

 

He pushed open the door quietly, peering into the hallway. It must have been early, the torches along the walls still unlit. Lem crept along the empty hallways, making his way towards Fero’s rooms and surprising himself by remembering the way.

 

The hallway outside Fero’s room was similarly dark, the only light coming from the crack of Fero’s open door. Lem paused. He could hear voices inside, Fero talking quietly to someone else. It was probably very private, whatever it was, to happen so early on a day like this.

 

Although. If they had  _ really _ wanted the privacy, Lem reasoned as he crept closer to peer through the sliver of open door, they would have shut the door all the way.

 

His breath caught in his throat - in the room with Fero was Devar.

 

They were both sitting on the ground in a pile of bedsheets and pillows, facing away from the door. Devar had brought Fero tea from the kitchen, in the same cups that he brought it to Lem when he needed to talk something through. Lem concentrated, blinking his eyes rapidly and tapping his ears four times.

 

The murmur of the voices became louder until Lem no longer had to strain to hear them.

 

“-Just worry about him, you know?” said Devar, “And I know he’s not the easiest to deal with.”

 

“You said it,” said Fero.

 

Lem wondered who they were talking about.

 

Devar huffed a laugh. “Yeah. But you get used to him, and he kind of grows on you.”

 

Fero looked down, his hands fiddling with the blanket in his lap. Lem could make out the flush on the back of his neck in the low lamplight. “Yeah, well. You don’t have to worry about that part.”

 

Devar let out a low whistle. “Man. That fast huh?”

 

Fero ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, he… I sort of wish he was just rude the whole time but then he keeps being nice and it’s like… like…”

 

Devar laughed again, putting one arm around Fero’s shoulder. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

 

Lem tried quickly to think of anyone who had been rude to Fero while he’d been here, but it was hard to think while Devar’s hand was on Fero’s shoulder, keeping them close together in the dimly lit room. His chest felt tight. Lem tapped his ears again, breaking the pattern and reducing Devar and Fero’s voices to quiet murmurs again, but the feeling in his chest remained.

 

He was probably just tired. It was still early. He could get a few more hours of sleep before he had to get up. Lem trailed back to his room, trying to pull his mind away from the memory of Fero’s odd expression, the way he’d leaned a little towards Devar. 

 

He flopped onto the bed, dragging the covers over his face, trying to block it out. It felt like he’d only had his eyes closed for a moment when Devar shook him awake.

 

Lem groaned, sitting up in the bed. “Devar? What time is it?”

 

“Almost morning,” said Devar, “I wanted to see you before they start getting you ready for the ceremony, to-” He let out a breath, “well, I guess I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

 

“I’m-- I--” 

 

His dream swam back into his mind, melding with the memory of Fero in the soft lamplight of his bedroom. He hoped the light of the lantern was too low for Devar to make out his blush.

 

“I’m fine, I think,” said Lem. “It’s-- I mean, it’s like you said, it just was to last long enough for an alliance to get sorted out properly. And he’s-- it’s not that bad.”

 

“He seems okay,” said Devar. “He’s definitely better at making you laugh than anyone you’ve  _ chosen  _ to date.”

 

“I-- he is?”

 

A knock sounded at the door.

 

“That’ll be the people to get you ready for the ceremony,” said Devar.

 

“Right,” said Lem.

 

Almost as soon as the group came through the door, the day became a blur of preparation - scented baths, someone braiding his hair into intricate patterns, another person making sure that his blue robes sat right and that the glittering swirls of embroidery could catch the light  _ just so _ . Lem was glad for the flurry of movement around him, distracting him from any thoughts or remnants of dreams still caught in his head.

 

And then it was time.

 

He was ushered quickly into the small chamber outside of where the ceremony was to take place. He and Fero would walk out together, exchange brief vows, and then… they would be married.

 

Lem wiped his palms on his pants. He sat down, then stood up again, not wanting to crease the fabric. He wiped his palms on his pants again.

 

The door creaked open and Lem quickly turned, his throat going dry.

 

Fero had small flowers threaded through his hair, the bright white of them matching the pattern of the embroidery on his deep green cloak. He gave Lem a small smile.

 

“You look, um. You look nice,” said Lem.

 

Fero’s cheeks flushed pink.

 

“Thanks,” said Fero, looking up at Lem through his lashes. “You look nice too?”

 

“Thank you,” said Lem. He paused. “I didn’t really pick any of it.”

 

Fero huffed a laugh. “Me either.”

 

Lem laughed. Fero smiled up at him and Lem smiled back, feeling warmth bubble up inside his chest.

 

“So--” said Lem.

 

“Do you--” Fero started to say.

 

“Oh, no, you--”

 

“No, you--”

 

Lem let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, I don’t remember what I was going to say.”

 

Fero laughed. “That’s okay. I guess we’ve got time for you to remember.”

 

“Not today we don’t,” said Lem. “Once this is over they really are going to need to know where we’re going to live.”

 

Fero’s smile faded. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

 

Lem half-reached for him before he let his hand drop, the motion too close to the memory of that morning. “Do… if you don’t want to live here, or in Rosemerrow that’s alright. I know this isn’t  _ really _ , well. You know. So I understand if there’s somewhere else you’d rather be.” He glanced at Fero before looking away. “Or be with.”

 

Fero blinked. “What are you talking about?”

 

“Don’t you want to go back to the mountain?”

 

“Of course I do, but… there isn’t anyone  _ there _ ,” said Fero, “that’s kind of the point of being a hermit. You’re kind of the first person I’ve actually talked to in...wow, a really long time.”

 

“Oh,” said Lem. 

 

“Even if I did go back to the mountains, it might be cool to be able to come visit you, sometimes,” said Fero. “If that was okay, I mean. If you wanted that.”

 

“I do,” said Lem, “That is, that sounds… good. I’d like that.”

 

Fero looked up at him, gaze warm and cheeks still flushed, and Lem felt a rush of fondness for him, pulling him down towards Fero-

 

“Good, you’re here,” said Devar, stepping into the room, “come on, it’s time.”

 

Lem cleared his throat, stepping back from Fero. Fero stepped forward, into his space again, slipping his hand into Lem’s.

 

“Come on,” said Fero, “let’s get this over with. I heard the after-party’s going to be  _ outside _ .”

 

Lem rolled his eyes, trying to tamp down his smile into something more serious and ceremonial.

 

Much like the preparation, the ceremony passed by Lem as a blur. If pressed, he would have been able to remember only fragments - the way the afternoon light filtered down onto them, the curve of Fero’s mouth, Fero squeezing his hand right before he had to repeat the vows.

 

The only part he remembered clearly was after the ceremony was over, Fero had taken his hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, his eyes locked with Lem’s, pulling the air from Lem’s lungs completely.

 

It felt strange, moving through the reception afterwards, shaking people’s hands and nodding as they gave compliments on the ceremony. Fero quickly disappeared in the throng of people, leaving Lem to talk with Lutz, nodding along to his description of Rosemerrow.

 

He heard Fero’s laugh before his spotted him, dancing with Devar, his cloak discarded on a nearby chair leaving him in a light green shirt and tight brown pants. Devar laughed at something Fero said, head thrown back and shoulders loose. Fero grinned, letting Devar spin him around. The sight made Lem’s chest feel tight.

 

“It certainly sounds lovely,” said Lem, cutting across the conversation, “I’ll have to travel there some time. If you’ll excuse me, I just have to…”

 

He made his way through the crowd towards Fero and Devar. Devar noticed him before Fero did, smoothly stepping away from Fero and nodding to Lem.

 

Fero frowned. “I didn’t say you could cut in.”

 

“I didn’t ask,” said Lem. “Can I talk to you?”

 

“You already are,” said Fero.

 

“Maybe you should go out to the courtyard,” said Devar. “It’s quieter there, better for talking.”

 

“Thanks,” said Lem, grabbing Fero’s hand, “come on.”

 

“What if I want to keep dancing?” said Fero, as he followed Lem.

 

“I thought you wanted to go outside?” said Lem. “This is-- oh, look, it’s the same courtyard as the other day.”

 

It looked different in the twilight, the columns surrounding it coloured by the sunset and the light catching on the statue of Severea and Galenica, making them almost seem to glow. The music drifted through on the breeze.

 

Fero tilted his head to one side. “Huh.” He looked up at Lem. “So. What did you want to talk about?”

 

“Oh,” said Lem, “Um. Right. So. What I wanted to talk about was… was… um…”

 

“While you think of it, do you wanna dance?” said Fero, “Moving around helps me think, sometimes.”

 

“I’m not much of a dancer,” said Lem.

 

“That’s okay,” said Fero, “Neither am I-- Here.”

 

He took both of Lem’s hands, putting one on his waist and twining the fingers of Lem’s other hand in his. He stepped closer, his body so close that Lem could feel the heat radiating off it in the cool night air. Fero shifted his feet, guiding them in small motions across the soft grass of the courtyard. The moons had started to rise, the light of it catching on Fero’s eyelashes.

 

“So,” said Fero, “Did you think of it, yet?”

 

Lem shook himself. “Think of what?”

 

“What you wanted to say to me that was so urgent we had to leave our own wedding reception.”

 

“Oh! Right, yes.” Lem tried to think, thoughts scurrying away under the warmth of Fero’s waist under his hand. “I um. I suppose I wanted to talk about, you know… all of this.”

 

“What about it?”

 

“Well it’s, you know, it’s a bit strange,” said Lem, “and you’re… um.”

 

“I’m what?” said Fero, his eyes narrowing.

 

“You’re not really what I expected,” said Lem.

 

Fero stopped moving. “What’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?”

 

“You’re very… you’re a bit… you’re just different to what I expected, that’s all,” said Lem.

 

“Well I’m  _ sorry _ ,” said Fero, pulling back from Lem to cross him arms over his chest.

 

“No, that’s not--” Lem let out a breath, “I’m not sure I would have really  _ liked _ the person I was picturing and, perhaps, being married to you isn’t as terrible as I thought it would be.”

 

“Wow,” said Fero, “Thanks.”

 

“No, what I mean is, that I--” Lem ran his hands through along his braids, looking for anything even approaching the right words. “I mean, I  _ think _ , that I like you.”

 

Fero considered him for a moment. “Okay.”

 

“ _ Okay _ ?” said Lem, “I tell you-- I mean-- and then  _ you _ \--”

 

Fero stepped closer, touching Lem’s arm lightly. “I mean:  _ okay _ . I like you too.”

 

Lem blinked. “Really?”

 

“Yes  _ really _ ,” said Fero, slipping his hand into Lem and squeezing it. Lem felt the motion of it in his chest.

 

“I…” Lem swallowed. “Some people find me rather--”

 

“Annoying?” offered Fero, “Rude? Petty?”

 

Lem huffed. “I don’t know that I would have put it like  _ that _ .”

 

“I would,” said Fero cheerfully. “But I still like you. People say the same stuff about me, too.”

 

“Well, you are,” said Lem.

 

Fero laughed, their joined hands swinging back and forth. “That just means we’re a good match!”

 

“Well, that’s… that’s lucky, isn’t it?” said Lem.

 

Fero laughed, his body leaning into Lem’s. “Yeah, it kind of is.” He looked up, resting his chin on Lem’s stomach. “It’s too bad you’re so stupidly tall, or I’d kiss you right now.”

 

All the air left Lem’s lungs. “Oh, um. I think I have a solution for that.”

 

Lem sank to his knees, bringing their faces level. Fero’s eyes were very wide, his cheeks flushed a deep pink. Lem brushed some hair from Fero’s face, his eyes tracing the pattern of freckles on Fero’s cheeks.

 

“So,” said Lem.

 

“So,” said Fero, and leant forward, pressing his lips to Lem’s.

 

Lem returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around Fero and pulling him close. Fero followed easily, his hands sliding up Lem’s back to wrap around his braids, tugging on them sharply and making Lem gasp into his mouth. Fero grinned against his lips, deepening the kiss.

 

Lem slid his hand down, wrapping around Fero’s small thighs and lifting him. Fero made a pleased noise, sliding his legs on either side of Lem’s waist, his heels digging into Lem’s back through the fabric of his coat. Lem moaned softly, pulling Fero tighter against him, rocking their hips together.

 

Fero gasped, pulling back slightly, his hands still tight in Lem’s hair. “Hey. Where are we sleeping tonight?”

 

Lem blinked, trying to think through the haze of Fero. “I… don’t know?”

 

“We should go find out,” said Fero.

 

“What?”

 

Fero leant forward, kissing Lem deeply, the heat of it streaking through Lem’s body.

 

Fero pulled back. “We should go find out, so we can go.”

 

“Right,” breathed Lem. “Right, absolutely.”

 

He stood, Fero still clinging to him.

 

“I should, um. I should put you down,” said Lem, his face hot.

 

Fero nodded, his face nuzzling the side of Lem’s neck. He pressed a kiss under Lem’s jaw.

 

“Actually,” said Lem, his voice cracking, “they probably haven’t moved anything out of my room yet. So we could-”

 

“Yes,” said Fero.

 

“-go there- oh.” Lem felt his cheeks flush a deep green. “Well. Alright then.” He paused. “I don’t remember how to get there.”

 

Fero made a frustrated noise. “Put me down.”

 

“Oh, Fero, come on,”  said Lem.

 

“No, I mean, put me down so I can get us back to your room,” said Fero.

 

Lem quickly lowered Fero to the ground. Fero grinned up at him, tangling their fingers together and pulling him away from the courtyard, through the maze of almost-familiar corridors to his actually-familiar door. Lem was relieved that there was no one inside, and that his belongings hadn’t yet been transported to whatever their new location was to be.

 

He quickly locked the door behind them, turning to see Fero already perched on the bed, swinging his feet and grinning at him. Lem stepped towards him, Fero tugging on the fabric of his coat as soon as he was in reach, pulling Lem down towards him. Lem followed, putting his hands either side of Fero on the bed.

 

Fero lay back, pulling Lem with him to cover him, his legs sliding around Lem’s waist. Lem shivered, moaning into Fero’s mouth as Fero ground their hips together. Fero arched up, pushing at Lem’s jacket until he shrugged out of it, not wanting to move his body away from Fero’s. He tugged at Lem’s hair, grinning as Lem shuddered against him, and began kissing a line down Lem’s throat, his teeth nipping at the skin of Lem’s neck.

 

Lem rolled them so that Fero was on top, bracketing his hands on Fero’s waist, rolling their hips together. Fero moaned, the sound of it muffled as he pressed his face against Lem’s chest, vibrating through him. Lem bit his lip, tugging Fero up so that he could kiss him again.

 

He slid his hands down Fero’s body, pressing them together, and Fero let out a long breath, arching towards him. His hands plucked at the fabric of Lem’s shirt.

 

“This off, too.”

 

Lem struggled for a moment, distracted by Fero’s mouth on his neck, before Fero slid off his lap. Lem whined, reaching to pull him back.

 

Fero laughed. “The faster you get it off, the faster we can keep going.”

 

Lem pulled the shirt over his head, not bothering with the complex fastenings. He gasped as he felt Fero’s hands on the laces of his trousers, his head and shoulders still caught in the tight fabric.

 

“Bet I can get these off faster than you can get that off,” said Fero.

 

“Do you have to make everything so-  _ ohh _ ” 

 

Lem broke off and Fero’s hand teased over him.

 

“Think of it as extra motivation,” said Fero.

 

Lem shuddered, redoubling his efforts to get his head free. It was difficult - despite the night air his skin felt burning-hot, any thought instantly chased away by the touch of Fero’s hand against him. Finally he freed himself, gasping at the sight. Fero had already shed his own shirt, hair mussed and pink lips bitten red.

 

“I guess you won,” said Fero, teasing his fingers along Lem’s length.

 

“I absolutely did,” said Lem, pulling Fero onto his lap again.

 

Fero laughed, the sound of it rumbling through Lem’s chest. He rolled his hips against Lem and Lem groaned, dropping back down on the bed and pulling Fero with him. He slid his hand down Fero’s sides, reaching for the laces of Fero’s pants. Fero shuddered.

 

“Can I?” asked Lem.

 

“ _ Please _ ,” said Fero.

 

Lem pushed down the tight fabric enough to slide his hand in, his breath catching in his throat as his fingers touched Fero’s soaked undergarments. Fero shuddered again, arching his hips to encourage Lem further. Lem ran his fingers along Fero’s entrance, gathering the slickness there before he pushed into the wet heat of him. Fero let out a broken-off moan, burying his face in Lem’s neck as Lem moved his hand.

 

Slowly, Lem added another finger, feeling Fero stretch around him, muscles twitching under his skin. Fero mouthed something against his neck, his breath coming fast. Lem looked at him, stopping his motions.

 

Fero whined. “ _ Lem _ \--  _ please _ , I need… I’m--”

 

Lem began to move his hand again, watching Fero’s face closely this time, how crooking his fingers made Fero gasp or how he’d shudder as Lem pressed his thumb to Fero’s clit. He could feel his own arousal pressing against the laces of his trousers, but instead he focussed in on the motion of his hand until Fero shuddered over and over again, his body clenching around Lem’s fingers and Fero’s hands tight in his hair.

 

Fero clumsily reached for his face, pulling him close and kissing him sloppily. Lem’s hand slid out of Fero’s pants as Fero lowered himself back down onto Lem’s lap. Lem bit his lip at the sudden friction. Fero’s satisfied grin turned sharp and he rocked his hips against Lem, his grin growing wider at Lem’s sharp gasp.

 

“I suppose we  _ are _ married,” said Fero. “I guess I  _ have _ to be nice to you.”

 

“Yes,” Lem started to say, “you do-”

 

Fero raised himself up slightly, just enough to free Lem from his pants, his skin burning hot against Len’s length. Lem moaned, pressing his face into the sheets and Fero stroked him, his grip tortuously light.

 

“Fero,” gasped Lem, “Fero  _ please _ \--”

 

Fero pushed down his own pants before slowly sinking onto Lem, biting his lip. Lem momentarily forgot how to breath, taking gasps of air as he watched Fero slowly raise and lower himself in a building rhythm. He already felt so close to the edge, his hand gripping the sheets beside his head as the heat pooled in his gut.

 

“Hey,” panted Fero, cupping Lem’s face in his hand.

 

Lem messily kissed Fero’s palm, rubbing his tusks along Fero’s fingers. Fero leant down to kiss him. The change in angle made Lem moan, feeling Fero clench around him as they kissed. Fero nipped at his lip, leaning back and bracing his hands on Lem’s chest as he moved. Lem lost himself in the heat of Fero against him, the sight of Fero above him filling his whole vision, his whole world.

 

He reached down, clumsily thumbing over Fero, seeking the spot he’d found earlier that had made Fero shudder. Fero moaned, ragged nails digging into Lem’s chest sharply as he clenched around Lem, muscles fluttering, before he flopped against Lem’s chest, still looking up at Lem, still watching him with those bright, curious eyes.

 

Lem didn’t last more than a few more thrusts, his bitten off groan muffled as Fero leaned forward to capture his lips. They kissed lazily, the heat of it more like a banked fire than an open flame.

 

“I think I could get used to being married to you,” said Fero.

 

“I think that might be one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me.”

 

“Well I don’t want you getting a big head,” said Fero.

 

The doorknob rattled. Lem and Fero both looked at the door, and then each other. Lem was fairly sure the expression of panic of Fero’s face was mirrored on his own.

 

“Lem?” said Devar, voice muffled by the door.

 

“I’m here, I’m fine!” said Lem, trying keep his voice level.

 

“Yeah, I figured,” said Devar, “listen we can’t find Fero-”

 

“I’m here too, also fine!” said Fero before Lem could stop him, “so, no need to have a search party and definitely no need to come in here!”

 

There was a pause.

 

“Okay,” said Devar, amusement coming through the door, “I’ll go tell them that you… that you’re both fine.”

 

“Thank you!” said Fero.

 

Lem covered his face. “Oh my god.”

 

“What, it’s fine, we’re married,” said Fero, “we’re like, supposed to do this.”

 

“Oh my  _ god _ ,” said Lem.

 

“Hey,” said Fero, peeling back Lem’s hands from his face, “it’s not so bad that people know, is it?”

 

He was looking down at Lem, sweat-slicked hair sticking the side of his face, biting his now-red lips - absolutely beautiful. Lem tangled their fingers together.

 

“I suppose it’s not so terrible,” said Lem.

 

Fero beamed, leaning forward to kiss him again, slow and languid. “Good.”

 

Lem smiled, the warmth of Fero’s smile settling in his chest. “Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


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